Castle Praenunthius

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by chiryu, Nov 12, 2012.

  1. GENERAL CHARACTER STATISTICS

    Character Name:
    Sheamen Goodfield
    Gender: Male
    Species/Race: Human, unkown.
    Age: 34
    Birthplace: Unkown
    Occupation: Prior shaman, present exorcist.

    PHYSICAL CHARACTERISTICS

    General Appearance: He is 5'9, has a good built, and though it is not very well visible, is muscular. He has a white skin and has a birth mark on his wrist. He has a firy red eye, much like gems, and a white 'empthy' eye, but they often look a bit droopy and off, giving him a dreamy appearance. He has brown slightly curled up hair which he let hang around his shoulders. His lips are a soft tint and do not look comfortable, especially since they rarely show a smile. He's got a fairly normal face, his small ears hidden by his hair. He's mostly seen shaven but sometimes a bit of fuzzy hair on his chin can be seen. He has a scar on his right eyebrow, which seems to run up untill his eye, which is where his white 'empthy' eye is. He often wears a light blue coat with a small symbol on the back of a serpent. For the rest he wears a black shirt and a dark green pants, which stop near his bare feet, not wearing any shoes.
    Strengths: He is smart, and often gives an emotionless and cool vibe. He is good at bluffing and lying. He is strong. He can sense spirits and certain types of energy around and is been tought to do exorcists, and other shaman things. He's good at combat. He's good at strategical thinking. Hardly has any fears.
    Weaknesses: Very akward at being social. Rude and selfish a lot. He has trouble being open and honest to people and doesn't have a lot of friends and people he trusts. He is not too quick and is bad at any type of weaponary. He has a lot of cropped up anger and emotions. Fears water and drowning. He's blind by one eye.

    MENTAL CHARACTERISTICS

    Current Goal: To earn money in order to survive. Seeing how most of his life is based on what he does, he will hardly ever stop to finish his gig.
    Talents: He has the ability to rinse things. He can persuade very well and also threaten. He can see spirits and feel energy. He can manipulate energy untill a certain degree.
    Inabilities: He can't climb or run. He can't socialise with people. He can't swim.
    Fears: Water. Drowning.
    General Personality: He is cold and rude. He is emotionless and fearless, yet seems to have a smart idea. He is selfish and will try to strive for his own goals rather than helping others. If they are not in his way though, he will try to ignore most of them. He gives a cool vibe, but can snap at times and lose his sanity. He has a low sanity.
    Inner Personality: He has a strong will for acceptance by people, but at the same time is scared of them and thus pushes them away.
    Secret: His original father was an ancestor of someone who inhereted the castle. He has killed someone before.

    HISTORIC BACKGROUND

    General History: He was found by an old shaman, near a river, wet. The old man took him in custody not knowing where he was from and who he was. He let him stay in his house near an old deserted village. He was accepted into the society and given a new identity. The shaman tried to raise the boy on his own, but he was very strict. However, he did teach him the way of the shaman, learning him how to exorcist and what not. The old shaman speculated that the child was not supposed to be alive and that his parents supposedly had tried to drown him. He survived though. This is how he described how the child didn't remember anythign prior and how it was that he was so terribly afraid of water. The child didn't have a lot of friends, seeing how most of them didn't accept him in society and he was locked up in the shaman's house most of the time, learning about things.
    Untill a certain date, the old shaman died of natural cause. However, as soon as the body got discovered, they pinned it on the boy and said it was murder. After that he left the city, not ever being allowed to return. Despised by his prior fellow citizens he tried to look for somethign else. A bigger village, which he found. He stayed there for a while and tried to continue his life, but soon found that it was money he needed to stay alive. He tried to sell himself out as a shaman, but no one was in need of one. After thinking, he sold himself out as an exorcist which was nearly the same task to him, but only sounded differently. Even though it didn't pay well, atleast it kept him alive. However, most of the inconvenience was that his job took him everywhere, all around the place.
    At one of his jobs he was called to go to a haunted house. But once there he seemed to presence nothing. Just as he wanted to leave, he noticed there was something there, but it was still alive. Someone tried to attack him and murder him. Visciously they fought, but Sheamen escaped after all, leaving with a battle scar which would soon make him blind on one eye. He got the police to arrest him and they soon found out the man was a serial killer. From that day on, he was left with a scar and an even bigger mistrust of people.

    Present Life:
    He was hired by someone to clear out an old abandoned castle. It seemed a bit supsicous but they managed to offer him enough gold to atleast check the place out.

    [​IMG]
     
  2. GENERAL CHARACTER STATISTICS

    Character Name: Candrichnine Cayne
    Aliases: Candie Cayne
    Gender: Female
    Species/Race: Human, unknown.
    Age: 299
    Apparent age: 27
    Birthplace: Pryhollow
    Primary residence: Castle Praenuntius
    Occupation: Prior-Apothecary.

    PHYSICAL CHARACTERISTICS

    General Appearance: Candie is 5'7", is slender and dainty. She is fair complected, ruby red hair that cascades down to her lower back in wavelets. She has emerald green eyes, and ample ruby lips. Her features are horribly marred, the melted flesh of her face scarrified and frozen forever in crystalized sugars(like a candy apple) the left side droops. Her exterior is a hardened candy shell, her interior is transformed similarly. Her blood is a licorice syrup. She wears a scarlet hooded cloak to hide her disfigurement, which has has obvious signs of wear from generations of use. She is clad in a fur trimmed, black dress that docks about her ankles, and black ankle boots.

    Strengths: She possesses a strength normal to that of a human female, but becomes feral when she feels she is threatened. She is armed with 14 inch,indestructible candied talons, and possesses the ability to destroy the anatomy of living things at a molecular level upon contact. So whatever meets with them dies, liquifying the innards, and becoming enarmored in a candied shell. She loves to recount the tale of how she was changed into a monster.

    Weaknesses: She is Paranoid, Vindictive, Anti social, and has a difficult time in trusting others. She fears being hunted by witch hunters, and burned at the stake for her past transgressions, which include poisoning children with tainted confections.

    MENTAL CHARACTERISTICS

    Current Goal: Survival.
    Talents: She can transform living structures into candy, she is very knowlegeable in Alchemy.

    Inabilities: She cannot weave incantations, she would produce something ineffective and comical if she tried. She cannot fly, or swim.

    Fears: Being caught by witch hunters, and burning at the stake.

    General Personality: She is Paranoid, Reclusive, Vindictive, and Distrustful. She is usually soft spoken, but prone to sudden mood swings if she thinks she is threatened.

    Inner Personality: She wishes to be forgiven for her trespasses, and has a strong need to be accepted by people. She yearns for companionship, but is afraid of rejection because of her hideous appearance. She wants someone to love her.

    Secret: She has killed many people, and killed the children of her hometown upon the eve of a festival. Sweet stuff of all kinds have been outlawed because of her, and if any is founded, the offending party will burn as considered being in league with her.

    HISTORIC BACKGROUND

    General History: She was born and raised in Pryhollow, working as an Apothecary. She was famous throughout the land for her curatives, and then hurried hands led to a spilling of chemicals that were volitile when mixed and it caused an explosion that killed her. She was revived but the explosion caused adverse effects to her body, changing her outside and in into melted flesh hardened into a candy shell. She yearned for love, but was rejected by men and felt a scorn for the 'pretty' people. She killed people, and poisoned their children with tainted chocolates. She was run out of town by witch hunters, to burn at the stake if captured. She became a wanderer, stumbling upon an old abandoned castle tht she soon took up residence in. The woods surrounding the castle has been changed into candy, the animal life and any person who dare approach the castle. She yearns for a living companion, for the candied life around her could hold no interaction.Generations have past, but she still can't bring herself past the threshold of town. She fears that the witch hunters still live, and will burn her for her crimes. She has no idea that over 200 years have past.

    Present Life:
    She occupies Praenuntius alone and forlorn, entertaining the company of none except for the nature she transformed, and the folks with curious heart that dare encroach upon the property she claims.

    http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u66/TrinityDemonia/Ravens world/Candie3.jpg
     
  3. A woman and her child were sipping upon the bitterest tea to ever touch their palate. Peering into the steaming, dark liquid, it was just as much an intrusion to their gaze as the ascerbic taste was a sharp bite to their tastebuds. As their puckered lips once again found the rim of their china cups, the sourness extracted with much wincing, the little girl placed the unwanted substance back upon the saucer. "Mommy, where has the sugar gone?"


    This brought her mother back to a time generations prior, imagining the era her own forebearers had lived. Her voice little more than a whisper, as if the walls would have ears, she had begun to regale her daughter with the secrets of old. "There once lived a witch, with a heart as pure to match the beauty of her face. She made concoctions of all sorts to relieve the town of its ails. Potions to make a dying crop flourish, to restore youth to the vain peoples, or those afflicted with the sicknesses that come with old age. Her curatives were known throughout the land and many would journey from far and wide just to take inside them the healing powers of what was contained within amber and cobalt colored bottles. She possessed naught but a friendly tongue to all her customers, but had never once spoke of her name. None really knew what happened that fateful night, but there was rumor that a horrible explosion that shook the very foundation of her humble store occured. Many had feared the woman of no identity had perished within the tomb fashioned of debris. But some say that the mingling of substances had caused a volitile reaction, changing the waifish woman into a monster."

    She had finally had her fill of the distasteful substance, placing the dainty cup rather noisily upon its saucer. "What does this have to do with the tea, Mommy?" The little girl wrinkled her nose at the cup. The woman's fist descended upon the tabletop as she hissed out her answer. "It has -everything- to do with the tea!" She paused for a moment, looking upon her wide eyed daughter with regret for speaking so harshly. "Something -did- happen that night, for out of the rubble had risen a creature completely changed of her former self. She was born anew as Candie Cayne." As her story went on, it was revealed that Candie Cayne was horribly disfigured in the accident, that the flesh of the right side of her face had melted to closely resemble pulled taffy, that her fingers had liquified only to harden into sanguine laquered talons. However hideous this creature was, she would never age for amongst the other ingredients,liquidy sugars combusted had splashed upon her face, sealing her distorted features in am impenetrable candy shell. Her teeth crumbled into a fine powder, replaced by small lumps of the sweet stuff that would dissolve every time saliva touches them. Her heart soon grew black, having been spurned of love from her gruesome appearance.

    The people looked upon her visage appauled, sickened, or with contempt. Candie Cayne had discovered one day purely by coincidence that she had the power to change a living being into a confectionary sweet with a mere touch of her talons. She had then used this power to exact revenge on the people that had once rejected her, the delicious aromas of candied people attracting many a pest to eat the evidence. Her hatred grew of children, and Candie Cayne had begun poisoning them with toxin riddled chocolates. She was run out of the town and hunted for this, to burn at the stake if ever found. "Did they ever find her, Mommy?" The woman sadly shook her head, reflecting upon herself in the black brew of her cup. "But, confections of all kinds were outlawed since. People were forced to cleanse their homes and stores of the devilish delectables and any written evidence of their creation, to cast them upon the fire to burn. Those who would refuse or had goodies stashed in secret that were recovered were burned at the stake for being in league with the foul creature."
     
  4. One of the kids smacked his hands on the table, enthusiastically as if he had just found himself a new friend. He almost jumped of his seat as he started blarring to the younger child on the other end of the table. "I'm telling you! I swear I saw something happened! I robbed the man and ran away as we ussualy would, but he wouldn't get off my tail, so I fled down the path and hid down one of the bushes. The guy continued to follow something, but it wasn't me. It was something else! He rain straight up that creepy abandoned castle. I would be lying if I said I was expecting him to come back." Slowly the kids sat back down, pridefull, as his little 'brother' on the other end of the table stared in awe, eating up every bit of the story that got told by him. They both wore the same ragged and filthy clothes and their haircut showed exactly the same. It wasn't much of a sight.

    They sat in a tavern, near the wall at a table, having ordered something to drink and eat, but not much for the both of them. As much as they could afford. For the rest the tavern was pretty deserted. There was one other man sitting near the center, all alone. His light blue coat covered the chair as he sat with his fingers crossed, staring a the barmaid. It was as if he was checking her out, but at the same time he seemed deep in though. The man in the black shirt had a simple beer in front of him on the table but not much more than that. The bar maid akwardly stepped up to the man and asked him if he wanted anything, upon which he shortly responded "No.". His voice seemed cold and bared no emotion, much like his facial expression did. The bar maid turned around frustrated and walked away, heading down the back, where she wouldn't get peeped at. But the man wasn't doing anything like that. He was listening to the 2 boys on the other end, who seemed to ignore him all together as they continued their shenanigans.

    "What do you think it was?" The little boy asked suprised, his eyes big and flickering, looking up to the bigger child. Of course, the bigger one started smiling, enjoying the attention. Trying to encourage the small one to praise him even more, he continued. "I bet it was a ghost. A ghost who tried to help me. Me for being so great. I bet he saw how couragous and good I actually was."

    The man had heard enough. He had to strike now, now that no one was here. He stood up, trowing the last pieces of bitter beer down his throat, not even trying to get a taste of the horrid stuff, and put the mug down. He put on his coat as if he was ready to leave, which he could since he had to pay beforehand. He walked away, but no the the exit, but to the table of the 2 boys. The 2 of them responded surpised, looking up at the man, who staring down at them with a glare which could only be described as eerie. The small child tried to back away, but the bigger didn't flinch. "What do you w-Agh!!" Before the child could even finish his sentence he got cut of by the man who grasped his sturdy fingers around his throat. The child was weak and the man was strong making it feel like he was just watching his pray suffer in his last moments of life, before choking him. The child tried to lenghten his neck in an attempt to get more breath, as he got lifted up and pushed against the wall. His small fingers clutched themselves around the man's wrist only moving it slighty, but not enough to get him loose. The small child backed off, and teary eyed, pulled a dagger out of his pocket, threatening the man. However, the man only looked at the child, furiated, making it tremble and drop the dagger.

    He looked back at his pray as he held them in his grasp, who was fighting to survive. "You. You are the scum of the world. A thorn in everyone's eye. No one cares as to what happens to you. I could do everyone a favor and kill you right now, but I'm not even gonna bother. I don't care about you, much as I do not care about the world. I care about something else though. Something that you have. Information. Where was that castle you speak of and what was it?" He demanded, his last words spoken less calm than the rest. His hands started to put more pressure on the kid as he was done speaking, making him groan in pain, his eyes tearing up too. "C-castle....Cas..." He tried to speak but it was too dificult with his aorta being trachea being cloes by the man's fingers.

    "Castle Praenuntius! It's down this road and ends down there!" The young kid yelled, trying to save his bigger friend. He pointed out of the window. The man looked down at the kid and opened his hand, releasing the child of his strangeling. The big child fell down on the floor holding his throat as he grasped for air, having trouble doing so. The younger one walked towards where his friend was and tried to comfort him, failing in doing so. The man flinched his head, his hair following. His hand lowered itself into his pocket where he took a golden coin. He pressed it on the table near them, with the words "Thanks" which seemed as genuine as an bad actor in a play would say. He turned around leaving the 2 children by themself, with mixed emotions, but moreover fear and anger. He himself walked out, out of the tavern and looked down the road. "Great.." He said unmotivated, as he started walking on his bare feet down the pathway, which should lead to where he had to go.

    They had paid him for a job down here. But it was unclear as ever as what he had to do. He had to 'free' the castle of whatever was there. Free? That was like saying to a docter to cure him of 'a' disease and not specifying which or what symptoms he had. Normally he would've refused it. Especially after hearing the stories. All classic stereotypical ghost stories. The ones you would hear a drunken man tell in a bar. Nothing to be worried about. However, the payed him well. Very. He would've been able to survive for months if he did this gig. He got half the payment now and half the payment if he finished. Of course, if he was right, he wouldn't have to do much anyhow, other than finding and traveling all this way. It was supsicious that they payed him that much. They were probably a guild of thugs or thiefs, looking for a good place to hide and stay. What would he care? As long as it earned him a living, he would continue doing what he did.
     
  5. The air about Castle Praenuntius was perfumed of a sickly sweet scent, lingering aromas of sugars masking an underlying touch of decay to the subtle breeze. The forest about the errie edifice was immortalized of Candie Cayne's mark. The trees were fossilized in a sturdy honey like substance, encasing the wood into a somewhat transparent armor. There was evidence of her talons having struck most of the scenery, the bones of domesticated creatures and pests alike were also trapped within mouth watering materials. Not a single blade of grass would grow, nor any flora would sprout for they were blighted of her curse. The very earth suffered as a result of her touch. Candie Cayne was unable to transshape the non living aspects of her great domicile, and the metallic structure reigned over most of the ever shaded countryside. If one were to boldly tresspass, they would find that the land and sky above were devoid of life in its entirety, for the accursed soul that occupied the expansive property had forged candied companions to keep her loneliness at bay.

    She no longer had need to sleep, for she would never age or become fatigued. Within her small stature, a fleshy heart that had long been modified into a crystallized likeness had given her the energies of an eternal sugar rush. She had occupied much of the Castle, favoring in innards of her alchemy lab more than any other room. It was where she toiled away, night and day, her frustrations bellowing from within the depths of her fasthold. Nowadays she would only step out into the sun for merely a passing glance at the wasteland she had created, smells of sugar painted upon a breeze she could not bid to another direction. It only added to her dissatisfaction, even the gentlest of breezes becoming a slap upon her face as the scent wafted upon them. She would often stand under the shade of the leaves of the treetops which would never sprout anew and had rarely shed come Autumn, the molting offal raining upon her like brittle shards of glass, her emerald gaze cast upwards she contemplated the heavens.

    Sometimes she had really wished to be rid of her talons, that seemed to be forged of a magick so strong that they were unbreakable by any shears man could produce. Their length allowed for very limited use of her hands, and they couldn't be guised by gloves. When she left for town which was but upon a fleeting whim, she stood at the clearing afraid to cross the threshold into the midst of the populus. Would any of them see her? She was but a lurid stain upon the grassy field, her face retreating within the hood of her scarlet cloak. She had busied her hands within the folds of her ebony skirts, so none may look upon the unsettling nature of the talons that grew upon her fingertips. A small, sad groan would escape her slightly parted lips every time, and she would then whisk away to the safety of the heavily treetopped, darkening paths that lead to her home. Surely much has changed since the day she was run out of town, for many a generation had yielded the birth of new faces whist the old had succumbed to their inevitable fates, but she couldn't bring herself to risk it. Candie Cayne imagined the night alit with the torches being set upon the pyre designated for her, the townsfolk surrounding her as if to ensnare the creature responsible for the deaths of those children so long ago.
     
  6. Walking down the path, covered in the darkness that got offered to him by the thick bundle of leaves above him, he stared forward. Ahead of him was more darkness. Behind of him was the same darkness. It was as if the whole world tried to warn him. Warn him about the dark path he was walking upon. But he didn't care. Most of his life had been nothing but a dark path. Be it his memories, having fade away, or his friends and family, having cast him away. Yet, he couldn't help but feel uncomfortable, which was strange. He had never felt uncomfortable. Ever. Travelling was one of the few joys in life he actually still had and treasured, but this time it didn't feel good. Something was off. What did he know about Castle Praenuntius anyhow? He didn't know much more than who he forced the information out of. Of course, the main haunting considered of one thing: People go in, but don't come back. What's more, people seemed to have told stories about sightings of people there and also some story about a witch. Aside from all the hautnings, there was still some other information. The castle was used in the past by the lord of the lands around here. Apparently it got out of use, due to (of course) a diversity of theories why. After that the places crumble down, after being used by other people, but the place never had a propper function anymore. It seemed that the stories had been started around the time the lord stopped using the castle untill now. Also someone mentioned it was quiet a big caslte, but surrounded by most of all, forests. Yeah, a lot of information all and about. And of course half of the information given, was probably made up nonsense. That's just great.

    Even though he was already done with most of his thoughts, he still got struck out of his thoughts when he sensed something paticular. It was in the air. A really sweet scent. The same scent you would smell if you'd walk past candy store. It alerted him. Why would there be a scent like this down here? It got worse and worse with every step. And the worser the scent got, the more catious he became. His voyage, which used to be comforting and then uncomforting, now started to become simply unsettling. It took him a while to notice that it wasn't only the scents had started to change, but also the forest around him. It was hard to describe what it was. It was as if.....time had started to slow down...or reverted. The leaves started to look younger and everything seemed to become more beautifull and shinier. It was a really odd sight. He was wrong....This wasn't as simple as he expected it to be. However, there was no backing out no more. He could see the castle at far. It was just a while further to sit himself in front of the entrance way.

    How he wished, things would've changed, but they didn't. Things got worse. The scent got stronger and stronger and nearly made his teeth rot, simply by breathing the air down there. Not only that, the sweet air got mixed up with the strange smell of death, which made up for a horrible odor. And not only that. Time itself had seemed to stop around him. Everything was stuck in the same season, and the same time. There were no bugs, no sounds, nothing. Just an eerie silence and himself dragging his feet over the ground. The movement of time would be measured by any kind of movement, but there was none. Not even the wind blowing had an effect on the leaves or the grass. And if it wasn't odd and creepy enough, he finally had reached the entrance. A big arc welcome him, with steel barred fence, open, like a fly trap waiting for his prey. 2 odd statues welcomed him on the side of the arc, which seemed to be chimeras. Even though it was such a fearfull beast, the glacure look of everything, even undid that, and made him look only strange now.

    Finally, he had entered the castle. Much unlike what he was used to, he had both a wide area to spread this time, and he was all alone. Go figure that it had to be the same day he walked upon what he could only describe as one of the weirdest castles ever. He looked around catiously, but he still seemed to be alone. His head turned to the ground, as he stared at what seemed to be grass, stuck in its position. He frowned and kneeled near it, to grab a straw of grass. However, even taking simple straw of grass was differnt. It seemed to break rather than to rip. Confused, he looked at the, what seemed to be a piece of candy, in his hand. He licked it, only to verify what he thought: Sugar. A coat of glacure had covered the straw of grass, in what seemed to be like the strangest taste of sugar. "What the...." He was confused. He had no idea what to think, but all he knew was, that if he wanted the rest of that money, he was gonna have to find out what was going on here.
     
  7. Candie sensed something. Tossing a glance toward the forest she had exited what had seemed only moments prior, something urged her out of the stern concentration she had focused upon the tops of buildings which had peaked higher than the flimsy gates that walled the town. The sun caught the sheen of the few stray rubious coils which fell upon her cheeks upon the sudden movement of her head, the unruly pieces of hair had made her feel as revealed as if she were completely disrobed amidst the feeble coverage of the grasses. Although none would have the capabilities to view her such a distance away, her feet swiftly carried the direction home. Her movements ceased just as the grandiose structure came into view, however obscured by the purple curtains of twilight against a darkling backdrop of sky. Some intrusive creature had entered her home, had encroached upon her most hallowed space. The mingling of body odor in the would betray this pest as human in species, possibly male. What did this human want? She owned naught worth looting, although a clever tongued thief could surely try to cop a few coin from the sales of her mystery elixers.

    She could barely bring herself up the crumbling stone steps. So this scavenger sought to bare her of all possessions? She had a great amount of time to observe the life around her that she could not partake in. The world was rife with poverty, and impoverishment had borne many thieves. She readied herself to face the intruder, however dangerous he could be, she felt a strange longing for his company that wrenched her soul. "H-Hello?" The words surged up her delicate throat, pained groans strumming her vocal chords like a long forgotten tune on a lute. A lengthy neglect of voice had restricted most of her vernacular, making her feel as if she were but a child learning the processes of speech. She tried to work her atrophied facial features, calling out to either friend or foe that was sheltered within her Castle. Fingers flexed beneath the folds of cloth they were hidden under, it was as if she were almost -itching- to rake her talons across pliable flesh.

    A smile tugged at the corner of her her richly red laquered mouth, distorting the hideously marred features of her countenence. Part of her almost felt capricious for the attention, decades of sadness and solitude being freed of her like the breaking of shackles that bound her to nothing but the embellishments she had given to her thoughts. "H-hello?" Her voice creaked once again, throwing her fits of pain as her lips tore to divide from one another, and she brought her hands up toward her face to quell the stinging sensation of flesh yielding to allow for sound to emit.
     
  8. The taste of sugar was still present in his mouth, even after everything had been dissolved and swallowed. It was like the air itself was candy too, stimulating his saliva reprocution only more. He swallowed the overload of spit. Being in this place was nuisance enough, even without anyone interferring or anything making it more difficult. As he stood there, in the middle of the path, leading to the first building of the castle, which had a welcoming huge wooden door covering it, he groaned softly to himself and nudged his head down to look at the shining path. Both his normal eye and his dead eye stared at the same spot as he got lost in though.

    Up untill now, he was able to figure out somethings, however most did not make any sense. The most important thing was of course being the observation that everything was made out of sugar, or atleast appeared to be so. The 2nd thing he knew was the story the children had told him, though he didn't rely much on that. He tried connecting any of this evidence to any of the theories that he heard, but soon got lost in his own head and confusion spread, creating only more qeustions than awnsers. However, his 3 piece of evidence came upon him rather than visa versa, making it fairly easy for him, or not?

    A voice so strange and hard to describe. It was like a 2 year old tried to finish a sentence, with the voice of an adult. It sounded like a piano being played after years of having gotten more dusty. It sounded weird. And the voice greeted him, however, not a grin nor a frown appeared on his face, upon hearing it. It wasn't disbelief either. It wasn't as if it was impossible for someone to live here after all. His droopy eyes slowly blinked as he tried to look at the source of this voice, only to find a seemingly young and pretty girl. Her lips were red and shiny, like an apple. Her eye lids were covered in a dust that suited the rest of her shiny face, and seemed 'sparkly'. He hair was one of the few not suspicious things about her, which were simply curly locks falling down what seemed to be the perfect face of youth. The red cape, suited her lips, but covered up most of her body, still giving him reason to be catious, if a random girl in a creepy castle wasn't to warry of enough yet.

    Apparently, it was her that had spoken with such an untrained voice. Even though, he could've alerady realised it by now, he hadn't, and her appearance, much like the rest of the confusions in his head, raised only more qeustions. However, this was the one piece of evidence that could actually awnser him, hopefully. Skipping his own introduction, he bluntly started by asking "Who are you and why are you here?".
     
  9. Her small utterances were amplified against the stark silence of her surroundings, she could recall how ownership of Castle Praenuntius was passed from hand to hand, and then to her. She was but a wanderer to this land, finding but a stent of residing in whatever hovel that would welcome her in from the snow and rain. A deformed outcast unbefriended by the world, her journies in solitude finally brought her to the gargantuan demon that squat upon but a barren acreage, a desolate panoramic scene of broken windows, and mold tinged decrepitude. It was just as unloved as she, and she felt a sense of pity for the crumbling citadel. The parapets that once stood boldly against the heavens lie upon the ground in pieces, a mingling of must and decay powerful enough to overwhelm the nectarous scent that enveloped her her dainty form, her stomach churned in disgust with each inhalation.

    Praenuntius had many secrets, most of which would remain unrecoverable no matter how deep one would delve in its mysteries. A place shrouded in the gloom of ever present shadows, a scanty amount of sunlight filtered through here and there. It was told that this atrocious anethema was constructed of a pact between a fiendish archetect and the Devil himself, the property plagued of the bloodshed, the last sacrifice of the enfeebled creator. Nothing would grow within its walls, and the trees surrounding it were frozen in a forlorn pose, their branches reaching up to the sky in supplication. As his voice finally found its way to her, she froze. She was dumbstruck. It would seem that she didn't comprehend what he was asking her, but she could only oggle the man with no sound produced of her long to be exercised vocal chords. After several moments of the stupifed look having washed over her face, she slowly, painstakingly, had begun to thaw. Her tongue still quelled with silence, her fingers began to flex more eagerly out of view. Sorrow, but only a twinge inside of her now, had pained her deeply. She spun on heel, turning away from the gaze that beheld her.

    Perhaps she looked beauteous from afar, but if he neared, would he shun her? She didn't want the creature forged of living flesh, the newfound companion she had pined for for so long to run off into the night. He had spoken to her, she could not say the same for the countless animals which had crossed her path, for they were incapable of speech. She had understood this, but could not help to humor the notion that they had spoken to her after they were modified. The forest and animals would greet her, and she would feel a stiff smile play at the working corner of her mouth. Summoned from reverie by the nagging thoughts of the townsfolk of old and this newcomer, she let out a hiss. "I occupy this grand Castle. You are but an intruder!" Her lips fully divided from one another, causing much pain to make her knees start to wobble. "What are you doing here, trying to rob me blind?" Rasping words lashed at him, as she bit back the stinging pain of torn flesh. "Or are you one with a bounty to bring me back to my death? Can't you let my past trangressions die? For a few gold pieces you would see me burned at the stake and buried in a Beggar's grave? I will no go with you so easily." She spoke in a threatening manner now, mimicking the low growling of wolves before they attack. She turned to face him now, jewel green eyes burning, cutting through the darkness like twin blades.
     
  10. There was a minute of akward silence as he glared at the girl, as if she had something on her face. This was quiet a turn. In all of the stories he heard, no matter what, there was no mention of a girl living here. How come? Shouldn it atleast have been mentioned? All of his ideas were busted the moment she came in this plan, like a mirror shattering. What was he gonna do now? Exorcise in her house? Just walk away? Enough awnsers to one qeustion, but none seem suited. This was something he never had encountered before, so he didn't know how to handle this. Slowly, he closed his eyes for a moment, losing himself in his thoughts. He needed a plan. She seemed to think he was a thief or a bounty hunter of the sort. Could he use that any bit? Maybe he could make her believe something else. Everything was better than leaving. He opened his eyes again and looked at the sky, which was the only dynamic thing in the enviroment here. Night. A deep and tired sighed passed his lips as his head nudged down again, his eyes darting her.

    "Don't worry." He tried to say in a comforting voice, but it being chanted by his vocal chords into something deeper and less comforting than he intended. As quick as he tried, he also stopped putting up another voice and started his normal voice, which seeped into her ear. "I have no idea who you are, and I'm not here for any riches." He implied truthfully. He swallowed as his lies started. "I'm a mere traveller. I heard of a deserted castle so I figured I could descend here and stay the night here, which was better than staying in these woods." He stopped for a moment. And like a spirit, he slowly started walking forward, towards her. "I did not know of your presence. I'm sorry for intruding though. However, it will be troublesome to leave now. The woods are dangerous at night and I am not really ready to become a bear meal. Would you mind if I spend the night here anyhow?" Now that he had started to step closer, she suddenly seemed different. There was something ...odd about her. It almost seemed like her face would crack if you would puncture it, like glass.

    The close he got, the worse the scent got too. It was by now that his suspiciouns once agan raised. Had he forgotten what he saw before? Something was wrong here. He knew it. It couldn't be an accident that she was here in this sugary hell. Even though he was suspicious, he didn't become catious or changed his pose at all. It didn't matter after all. For starters, she didn't seem strong. Even if she wanted to do something, she would be no match in a fight of muscle. Secondly, he also had a blad hidden in the sleves of his jackets. If something really did happen, he'd just get them out and save himself. No, it was important to look comforting, how strange that was to him. He wasn't supposed to look catious or suspicious. However, dangerous was another problem. He'd have to change his whole look if he didn't want to look dangerous. His hands stuffed themselves in his pockets as he stopped, having been close enough to get a good look at her. "Well?"
     
  11. Candie paused for a moment, something stirring beneath the solidified portion of her face. Was it a twinge of despair? She knew not if she could believe him, or if this would be too risky a thing for her. He didn't really seem like he was hiding anything, afterall. But if she had let her guard down and let him in, he could easily turn on her. Then what would happen? Would he just become another sculpture of crystallized sugar that would forever haunt her, just another piece to the befouled landscape she live upon? She desperately sought his company. He seeme to have fears of being declined a good respite,of being urged back into the wood from whence he came. She slew the forest, its inhabitants. She was curious to -know- this creature, what made him tick. A brief glance downcast to her lengthy claws, she decided to keep him unharmed for the time being. "There is not much for you here. I have no need for the petty things mortals do, like food and sleep. But, if you happen upon something.."

    Candie walked by the visitor, her skirts sweeping a path upon the stone walkway. "Follow."The doors to the roomy foyer permitted her entrance. "You may look wherever your footsteps may take you. You will find no barred doors. I will try to find you something of which you could imbibe." She was off then, the echo of her footsteps lessening until she retreated to her laboratory.Her gaze fluttered from this to that, a rainbow of vials sat upon a a table worn with age. Most of the concotions there would extinguish the life of whosoever partook of them. She attempted a frown, her stiff lips would not produce it. She had naught for him to sip upon, as his journey there must have left him a parched tongue. Not a stream, nor lake to quench his thirst of either. Perhaps if she had found her way to him with nothing, he would have to leave. Terror had stricken the muscles that lie beneath her flesh, although she wore but a masque of calm. No! There has to be some way to produce an untainted drink. Swiftly moving about, she found a box that contained various spices and found a small bottle of holy water from a church of her youth. Dust clung to the outside of it, but it seemed pristine. Candie could try her hand at making a honey liqueur of what ingredients were scattered before her. She would have to find a living creature that she could break down into a fine substance to sweeten its taste.

    Ants! There marched a line of the tiny pests, all the while steadying a morsel of sugar on their backs. They were carefully lifted and dropped into the water that was said to be blessed by Gods, and she continued working with her emulsion to weed out any impurities. Soon she had perfected a drink which had the viscosity of syrup and smelled of licorice. It was brownish in color, but by now she figured that the hue wouldn't deter him. Abandoning the gracious cubicle, she sought him once more.
     
  12. He said nothing. He just listened and stood there, looking at her. He didn't seem to have won her trust completely, but she seemed to trust him pretty well for being a stranger to her. Atleast she wasn't as warry as before. More importantly though she confirmed his thoughts. She wasn't human. He wasn't sure yet what se was, but she seemed to be something better, or so did she seemed to think so. A small grin glustered on his face, which soon dissapeared. He was glad that things finally didn't seem to turn for the worst.

    She passed him what seemed to him, go in slow motion. He stared at her all the while, even though she didn't seem to give him that much interest. Was she really no warry at all? Was she really not aware that he could kill her if she was this close? Did she really not know that his fingers had to be stopped, as they were urging the grasp the blad in his sleeve? He made a fist, as he stopped looking at her, as she had passed. He didn't do it. He didn't want to. No matter what she was, she hadn't been in his way yet and had even been of help to him, somewhat, or he made himself believe so. However, if she wasn't human, what was she? Something dangerous? Was she just playing him after all?
    He frowned as he turned around, looking at her back, seeing how her dress was creating a clean path for him to follow. He knew that it wasn't smart, but yet he still followed. It stroke him then and there that there was something odd. Something lured him towards her, like cheese luring a rat into a trap. Surely it was not the sick scent of sugar and flesh that attracted him.

    He stepped inside the foyer, closing the doors as he got in. She was hospitale enough to let him wonder in this big castle. Once again, a sign she didn't see him as much of a threat. That, or she really did have nothing to hide, which seemed implausible in this castle caramel, the one place where time seemed to have stopped. However, unlike outside, there was movement here, thought it wasn't anything pleasent. Just the mere rubble and dust that had descened over the years. She had already walked away as he said "Thank you, miss" not even noticing her absence, since he kept himself busy with inspecting the foyer. It was big, much like you would expect from this castle. The place was decorated in an old fashioned way and had seemed to have been used by many. the few chairs that stood there were placed in odd directions as if moved and the whole placed reeked like it did outside, thought not as sick. It was probably the fact that the doors around him had closed. It could have been a trap, but it didn't seem to be that way.
     
  13. Balancing the liqueur in hand, her emerald gaze darting from here to there in a desperate search to find something she could drape over her hands. They were conspicuous and misshapen, and he would most definately find the lurid red talons that protruded from each fingertip to be threatening. She liked this visitor, his living flesh and bone. His voice. He was a much desired companion, instead of the sugary statuettes that were forever planted on her property like an eyesore. Those imprisoned souls had been a substitute for friends for many generations. But, if he really knew what what functioned beneath her effective disguise, what would he do then? He would possibly show his agressive side, and they would become engaged in a battle that he couldn't win. The forest, the people and animals that were entombed in a sugary crust had stood as testimony to that. She found a black table cloth in which she could hide them, which she positioned in such a way to mock a serving platter.

    As she returned to the spacious foyer, she realized he was an unamed guest. She didn't know what to call, for her words would echo throughout the Castle to find his ear. Candie pondered for a moment, her brow squirming in a failed attempt to furrow. It would be too rude to use any other monicker but the one that belonged to him. "Your...drink is ready." Her words came out in a strange fashion, as if they had not flow but stumbled somehow upon exiting her mouth. Candie waited patiently there, for she knew not even where to begin in pursuing him. Was she really about to break bread with someone? She looked to the crystallized morsels she had also managed to produce of leftover ingredients and ants. They seemed appetizing enough to appeal to a rumbling stomach. "You may retreat to the sitting room. I will be there momentarily." As her eyes were downcast upon the covering that rested upon her grotesque metacarpals and the vial that rested unsteadily upon them, she slowly approached the designated room.
     
  14. During her absence, his curiousity took the better of him. He walked around the foyer, taking a look all that was in there, may it not even be much. The foyer consisted out of a big open space in the middle and a stairway which ascended both sides of the rooms. In the middle, under the stairs, was a hallway, which seemed to lead elsewhere. Moreover, left and right of him and above him on the stairs were all doors, leading to god, knows what. Above him seemed to be a big chandelier, crystalised. It seemed nice, but some of the lights had already stopped working, though it still luminated the room completely, revealing the rest. A couple of chairs were found, right to him, which were near the door which led to the outside. There was also a small table near it with a shelf. Once again he turned around and looked at the walls, which were decorated with paintings. Some. He could only see 2. One was of an older woman. She seemed like a nobleman. Was she the previous owner? On another wall, was a painting of what seemed to be a riot. Normal people seemed to have gathered and fight with gaurds. On the top right he could see a small cupido angel, staring at him, as if warning him. He frowned shortly, before actually turning around, and noticed how the girl came back via the hallway, and came back in the large Foyer.

    He looked at her and gave a small nod, accepting her hospitality. "Thanks again" He echoed himself as he followed her. He opened a door on the right of him, revealing a whole new room. The new one being just as spacious, if not more, than the last one. This castle was huge. Sheaman wouldn't be suprised if he got himself lost in a place like this, so as of yet he wasn't gonna look more around. This new placed seemed much like a sitting room. Or so he had hoped it was. A bit tired, he plunged himself down near an deep soft chair which seemed to be harder than he had expected it to be. Near him were more chairs and behind him he could smell what he believed to be ashes, thus it being a fireplace. This room looked cozy, and though it still had the eerie feeling over it, felt more comfortable than the glacure felt outside. He got up again as soon as he realised he couldn't rest. After all, his mind wouldn't stop producing thoughts. He looked around, and stepped up to the nearest thing he could see, which happened to be a painting. Wiping a small layer of dust off, he saw a family, posing as if it was a picture. They seemed happy and once again, much like you would expect, wealthy too. Who else could afford such a thing? He quickly looked at the name of the artist, but as soon as he had read it, he forgot it again. He hadn't inspected too much, but as of yet, he had no clue what she was. He had hoped to see someting striking in the paintings, but they were just ordinairy every day old paintings. It felt as if he had jumped into a dark hole and didn't know where what was.
     
  15. "What name do you own?"She asked intently. Once the liqueur was placed upon the table in a rather clumsy performance, leaving the bottle to spin on its edge, she moved her hands in small gesture as to not reveal them from beneath the black cloth. "I am Candie Cayne. Perhaps you have heard of me? Things used to be very different...very different." Candie mouthed the words, but it seemed as if she were in a world of her own, her eyes fixated upon the riot captured by a painter's hand. "I apologize for not having sufficient glassware for you. I'm really not used to company, you see. You are welcome to look for some, if you wish to."

    An emerald eye shifted under a slitted lid, following him. Who sent him here? Did he come to kill her? Perhaps the liqueur would loosen his lips about the situation. He was a rather suspicious looking fellow, but she kept herself so shrouded in mystery, an inconspicuous character amongst the nothingness around her. The crimson cloak with the tattered edges had become like a second skin enveloping her own, but what did she feel she had to hide from here? She moved in an overly cautious manner, her bodily movements opposing a lingering glance from her guest. Then, a strange revelation had come to her. What if he lead others here, and they were waiting in darkness as per his command? What if an army of villagers had taken up the tools of their trade, hiding in the shadows that surrounded the menacing castle with ears attuned to hark his next instruction? They would brandish fire and pitchforks, as mobs usually tended to do.

    Her head turned swiftly, so that she could check the entrance to the room. There were no windows. She felt as if she were trapped, her pulse quickening to course a sugary cruor through her veins. Her head turned again, this time in his direction. She ground her teeth fashioned of porcelain and pearl so hard that she felt a gritty powder coat her tongue, a good amount fracturing from the given stress she placed upon them. Candie ran the tip of her tongue along the jagged edges, as if to inspect the damage. They would be but another gruesome adornment to the hideous caricature that was her face. "Why exactly are you here?" She finally spat, her words reverberating like thrown stones in the small room. "Have you come for me?" Whirling about, the hood which have obscured prying eyes from beholding her candied countenance. A quick gasp was expelled from her, pain seizing her breath as if the light and air struck her face like fire. She lifted her hands to shield her, the cloth covering fell to the floor, summoning small clouds of dust from the fissures of the aged wood. Her talons were exposed.If she would have stood with her hands flat against her hips, her red and white streaked claws would exceed the length of her knees. "I suppose you know what I am now." A feral tone danced upon her tongue, the right side of her mouth peeled back in a snarl.
     
  16. The tension got worse and worse. Her side was the most though, as Sheaman was still pretty calm for a situation like this. It all started out pretty innocent. It even went to a more comfortable direction before things went for the worst. "My name's Sheaman Goodfield. It's nice to meet you Candie Cayne." Her name. Though it didn't sound familiar, he knew it had something to do with the surroundings. Maybe it was pun. A nickname. "That's quiet a paticular name you get there Candie." He said as he turned around, his hand holding each other behind his back. He glared at her as she lured at the painting behind him. "Take my word for it: If I knew a nice girl with the name Candie Cayne lived here, I wouldn't have come here. Maybe" He said with a short grin. "And I don't really mind that."

    His eyes stared at her for a last time before he walked onwards to something else. A small statue on top of small decorative table. He knew it. It was old greeck story. It was about a nymph running away from a god named Apollo, who was madly in love with him. The nymph asked Poseidon for help, who turned her into a willow tree. The statue represented her turning into that. A small grin appeard as he moved his hand over the statue. He didn't know why, but he liked the story. All the while, he felt something burning in his neck. Was that her, staring at him? He wanted to turn around, but was afriad to be too confronting. Instead he just listened as he heard her steps. She had gotten up apparently and was going somewhere. He licked his lips as he got more catious. What was she doing? With her being not human, how long did he expect this to go okay? He looked aroud, making sure not to make eye contact and to make sure not to seem catious. He saw a door near him, leading to god know what. She was near the door they came into, which made that exit impossible.

    As if a vulcano erupted, she suddenly started talking, differently. She seemed more....vile somehow. She still spoke very oddly, but it got worse. It was as if lunged at him. Her voice made him turn around as he akwardly responded and tried excuse himself. "I'm a traveller as I told you before." He said with a confused frown, as if he had no idea why she bothered to ask it again, but he knew. It was an act. "I've not come here for you. As I have stated many times before, dear, I didn't even know you were here. You pretty much interferred with my plan" He said, saying something he shouldn't have. He spoke his tongue and he knew it. His eyes widened for a moment, before going back in a frown, hoping she hadn't noticed. Suddenly, things really started to change. She seemed in pain for uknown reason and suddenly she gasped. Then suddenly her talons showed. The whole thing happened in a couple of seconds. It was like it was all in slow motion. THe moment her talons were revealed he grew more catious and held the knives hidden in his sleeves. Her voice, now got even worse than before, and almost managed to induce him with fear. "I-I've heard stories of werewolves, vampires and witches being here, but never of a girl with the talons" he said almost mockingly. Of course, most people who knew about Candie Cayne weren't able to tell it anymore. "I'm not here looking for trouble, but if you're going to stand in my way you're giving me no option!" He threatened, quicker than he had hoped he would. He knew he was on the down side. He didn't know what she was. All he knew was the talons and to stay clear from them.
     
  17. She stopped seething, and decided to abort the the would be battle she had provoked a few moments prior. "Oh, I do apologize. This is no way to treat a guest at all. Please, pardon my actions. I thought you were one of -them.- The wicked point upon her forefinger was directed to the portrait, which depicted a clash between guards and villagers. Candie took a few cautious steps toward him. Her smile was but a wide cut across her face, revealing a few slivered teeth. "So what was this plan that my very presence had thwarted?" She moved toward a chair with torn, dingy yellow upholstry. "Sheaman Goodfield." She whipped about, causing it to fall crookedly to the floor before she had the opportunity to take a seat upon it.

    "Please, partake of the liqueur I've made especially for you, and regale me of your ventures." She had begun to pace, her talons clicking against the wall as she moved, and he fell prey to her gaze. She had a strange feeling that didn't sit right with her about the situation, but she would choose to trust the young male since she had yearned for companionship for so long, she didn't wish for another disasterous consequence.
     
  18. Sheaman held his knives firmly in his hands and stared at her intensively. He was like a catious cat, who upon the first sight of attack, would jump up and run. He was a calm and fearless men, but even he knew that a fight like this was just mere inequal. He could almost feel the sweat drop of his face, but before he could, she stopped. She suddenly changed attitude again, quiet fast. It was like she had some sort of extreme mood swing affecting her. He glanced at the painting she was pointing at and tried to figure out who she meant. It took him a while to notice, since his brain was still making sense of things, but far on the background, trough one of the torches the villagers bore, was a castle. One he recognised. Was it this one? Suddenly he started connecting the dots. A riot against the caslte, which probably succumbed this place. She was a direct descended and thus inherited this castle. Somehow she was able to live here, and to top it off, she seemed to be afraid of the mob. Still afraid of what could happen or possibly already had happened to her.

    He turned around but by the she had already comforted herself on a seat. He stilll clenched the knives being ready to attack or run, but his feet drove him towards the chair. His desire to flee left as soon as he realised that leaving now wouldn't leave him any better off. He still didn't trust her and her smile, but if he was intending to live, there was no other choice to cough up some things. Fighting was not a better option this case. He sighed and slowly took container of the table and held it in his hand. He looked at her and licked his lips. "Please....Don't do that again." He said as he looked at the water in the container, which seemed....healthy enough. Atleast it wasn't looking very poisonous. "I lied to you at some point." He started, folding his legs as he looked back at her. "I'm not a mere traveller tough it is true I travel a lot. I'm an exorcist. I exorcise spirits and other kinds of supernatural things. I do it purely for the money and since that's the only thing I've learned to do to stay alive. I was hired by some people to exorcise evil spirits from the castle, and was give half of the large payment beforehand. The other half I would get if I finished. However, then I met you. Since you're not a ghost, I figured I could just spend the night here and go back tommorow to receive payment." He finished his story with a sip upon the liqueur that she made. The moment, it hit his tongue, he already figured that the water was no exception from the surrounding. Sweet. He could've expected it. However, he was too thirsty to complain and drank most of it in one go, closing his eyes as his head tilted backwards.

    "Now about you...." He said as he opened his eyes and casted them upon her again. He lay the container back on the table. "...When I got here, I never expected a beautifull young woman to greet me. You were a thorn in my side....Yet...." He frowned as he tried to look for words, but soon lost all of them and continued without any good ones. "...I don't kow how to describe my feelings for you at current. However, qeustions are at large. Let's begin with what would be the most obvious one. I've been everywhere by now, and I've seen all kinds of things and I've noted lots of information about those creatures. It's sad to see how most are chased by us disgusting humans, for simple fear and ignorance. However, I've never encountered someone like you. What are you?"
     
  19. "I am a witch." She announced the words rather vehemently, as if expecting him to recoil in terror. "I ..used to be an apothecary by trade, and but my existance was to be ill- starred. A terrible explosion occured, degrading me to the debilitated creature you now behold." As if to accentuate her words, she brandished her candied talons once more, so that he may realize that she was but a revolting aspect to her former anatomy. "I've committed trangression that now shame me, and have riled the hunters. After so many generations, is a pyre still erected for me?" She questioned Sheaman, tilting her head slightly as she began to ponder.

    "I have not ventured to town since. I am afraid, as if my very presence upon the threshold would make the ground writhe."A soft, resigned sigh would be audible to the ears of the room. "How long have you lived? Do you know these hunters, have you pacted with them at all? I realize that you've not come for me, but others have. Others have with their pitchforks and torches, mobs of hateful souls seeking my demise! They seek to destroy me for killing their children!"
     
  20. Sheaman nodded as she showed the talons, which proved her story, and closed his eyes for a minute, as he started thinking. So there was a witch after all. However, the part about the candy was never explained. He leaned back into the chair and moved his hands along as he started talking. "You don't look too bad. I mean, the witches I have met have been...quiet stereotypical if I say so myself, so I am a little suprised." He said smiling softly, before it dissapeared again in his face. "We humans can be difficult.....It's a common phenomenon I've seen in a lot in my line of work. People don't even know you, yet they hate you and despise you. It's what I'd call 'the horror syndrome'. As soon as we know of something, but cannot completely grasp it, we make up stories, may they be true or not. For all I know they could've pinned thousands of murders on your name, even if you didn't commit them, but they feel satisfied with that explenation. It's better than nothing. And that's how many things will be tied to you, even if it's not true." He licked his lips as he shortly added. "Also, ghost stories are made up just out of interest and you seem to be a local favorite then, and thus people built up interesting stories upon you." He sighed as he nodded his head and leaned forward again, relaxig his elbows on his knees. "It's sad how ignorant we are sometimes really..."

    "I have not seen anyone follow me and as far as I know, no one around here dares to enter this place. Atleast, that's what I have been informed off. You shouldn't be so on edge all the time. It's not good for you." He said as he looked at her, shortly noticing and mumbled "...tough I doubt wrinkles will be of your trouble." He removed a lock of hair from his face and once again leaned back into the chair to start upon a different matter. "I still have one important thing to ask you. Yes I figured out about your name, you being a witch, and your talons and face, yet....I still feel obliged to ask. Are you the cause of all that sugary coat around the area? And if so how?"